


Kiss me if you must

by raisesomehale



Category: teen wolf - Fandom
Genre: Elves, First Kiss, Kissing Booth, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-22
Updated: 2013-05-22
Packaged: 2017-12-12 15:13:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,784
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/812976
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/raisesomehale/pseuds/raisesomehale
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Derek is wrapping up on an announcement on the Elves that have come into town when Stiles gets a text from Danny, asking where he is, and that if Stiles isn't there when his shift comes he is passing any kiss induced diseases onto him.</p><p>OR</p><p>The one where Stiles has a shift at the kissing booth and everyone secretly wants his dick.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Kiss me if you must

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this at 4am I.am.sorry
> 
> (Also this is unbeta'd. Forgive me.)
> 
> -  
>  _This work was written and posted for my own, and the readers entertainment. Therefore I do **not** give anyone associated with Teen Wolf, (be it PR, production, the writers, the crew, the cast, press teams, etc.,) permission to extract excerpts from this story in order to be read aloud of shared publicly. I also do not give any third party websites, (be it Goodreads, ebooks-tree, etc.) permission to take what I have written and post it on their sites. Furthermore, I wish for my works to remain **only** where I have posted them, so they may be enjoyed and read amongst fans and no where else._

It's not that Stiles hates the annual fair that the cross country team hoats every year.

It's just he wishes that all the booths, jumping castles, and funnel cakes would burn to the ground.

The thing is, Stiles has been dealing with this fair for years, and every time he's assigned to the worst of the booths offered. (The dunking booth, the fortune telling booth, and worst of all the karate booth for 'young tots.' Whatever the fuck that's supposed to mean.)

Still, he'd gladly take five-year-old knees to the balls than get a tongue bath from a bunch of strangers.

Which is why he has bent over backwards every year just to get out of it; stating false claims of strep throat, concocting a well involved story about why his doctor won't allow it, or hell, junior year he even went as far as saying that he had a phobia of lips.

Figures his luck would run out a year before he's finally free of the entire charade.

“Vocal rest.” Stiles' track coach deadpans, and Stiles thinks he can see her left eye twitch.

“Yep, gotta lay off these bad boys for a while,” he whispers harshly, pointing to the general vicinity he imagines his vocal chords to be.

She sighs and rests her head in her propped up hands, rubbing at her temples like if she just rubs hard enough Stiles will disappear from the spot in front of her desk.

“Listen. I know everyone detests having kissing booth duty, but it's our best money maker every year. We all have to do things we don't want, Stilinski, for instance: I've been laying off carbs for months, and I'd really like to eat that cupcake that damn Greenberg brought me, but I can't. I'm going to eat this celery stick,” she brings said celery stick up into view, ”Jog off that piece of chocolate I'm pretending I didn't eat, and you,” she jabs the celery stick towards Stiles before taking a bite out of it and standing, “Are going to run that booth when your shift comes around. Otherwise, your not going to state."

So the kissing booth is a go.

x.x.x

Of course the day the fair rolls around Derek is calling in a pack meeting that quote, “is mandatory, that means you, Stiles,” unquote. Which, Stiles resents by the way. 

Derek is wrapping up on an announcement on the Elves that have come into town when Stiles gets a text from Danny, asking where he is, and that if Stiles isn't there when his shift comes he is passing any kiss induced diseases onto him.

“Stiles.” Derek snaps. Stiles raises an eyebrow, not looking up from his phone.

“Hmm? Right, elves, dangerous, 'don't poke any and all mysterious flowers in the woods,' got it.” Stiles shuts his phone and gets up, “Is that all? We kinda have to be at this thing for school," he motions to Scott and Isaac.

“Do you want to go to school, or do you wanna... not die.” Scott groans in an exaserated sot of way, as if he's heard it all before, and lets his head fall to rest on Allison's shoulder.

Stiles rolls his eyes and stands. He pulls his bag over his shoulder, patting Derek on the cheek. “Chill, dude. If anything happens, you can find me under the sign that says 'Buy a Kiss.'”

And with that unreadable expression on Derek's face, Stiles pulls Isaac up from the couch and follows Scott out the door.

x.x.x

Stiles is currently staring enviously after Scott and Isaac as they make there way over to the snack booth when he spots Erica and Boyd positioned by the 'guess your height and weight' tent.

“Come out to support the local track team?” Stiles steals some of the popcorn Boyd is holding and wiggles his eyebrows at Erica, who sighs inwardly like being here is physically paining her. He can relate.

“After you three left, Derek caught the elves' scent only to lose it a few blocks away. So, here we are, awaiting the inevitable attack of the elves.” Stiles turns and skims the crowd, and sure enough he can see the rest of the pack stationed at different booths and tents.

He nods and turns back to the two, “Send someone to get me if anything goes down.”

With that he heads towards the kissing booth, and possibly his impending doom.

x.x.x

“Just, keep your moth shut, okay? They'll sneak up on you when you least expect it.” Danny shivers, and Stiles recalls Mrs. Jensen, the 70 year old lady that lives a few houses down, walking away from the booth wearing a triumphant grin not too long ago.

Eyeballing the crowd, Stiles notices that the line has increased drastically since Stiles has taken a seat. He's in the middle of wondering if he's at the right booth when Danny pulls his attention back to him.

“Also, seriously, water and anti bacterial wipes are your best friend.” Then Danny is departing with nothing more than a pat on Stiles' back.

Stiles turns to face the crowd with an audible swallow.

“Who's first?” He asks nervously, and a shy girl with raven hair steps up to place a crumpled dollar bill on the booth's table. “Hey,” he says brightly, tilting his head to make out more of her face, which is half hidden behind a curtain of hair.

Her blush deepens and she quickly leans forward enough for Stiles to place a small peck on the corner of her mouth. Any actual mouth to mouth action he can avoid, you'd better believe he'll avoid it.

He thanks her for her donation, she in turn holding her hand to where he'd placed the kiss, before she's running off to a group of girls who giggle excitedly.

The next girl to make it up to the booth, Stiles recognized from the Station. Sally is one of the deputy's daughters. She and Stiles sometimes go for ice cream when her mom needs a babysitter. She's particularly fond of his magic tricks, the ones that wouldn't be considered cool to anyone other than the 4 year old she is.

“Hi, Sally,” he coos as he bends over the booth, she being so short she can barely reach up to drop the five dollar bill on the table. “Thank you so much, tell your mommy and daddy 'thank you for the donation,' okay?” She nods quickly, her smile brightening before it twists.

"Mommy says I have to kiss you now, but boys are gross and I just wanted to say hi," she frowns, clearly distressed.

Stiles chuckles softly, "How about a high five instead, then?" She nods enthusiastically, and Stiles happily obliges.

"Thanks!" She says cheerily, and runs off to her waiting mom.

Stiles' heart swells, hearing a chorus of awws coming from the crowd. When he takes his seat again, he belatedly notices the group of teenage girls near by running to get in line.

x.x.x

Most of it flies by quickly, and he subtly checks the crowd, which continues to grow, and his phone to make sure nothing is going down with the pack.

A freshmen boy, who'll probably try out for the lacrosse team if he hasn't already, steps up to the booth and slaps down a fifty dollar bill with the kind of confidence Stiles had only dreamed of having at that age.

Stiles stares down at it, mouth slightly hung, before looking up at the boy. He recognizes him now, some relative of Jackson that used to shadow him when ever their schooling years coincided.

“Uh, I don't think I have change for that?” It isn't a question, he knows he doesn't because one of the other track members comes by every so often to collect the money the booth makes. He only has a couple dollars at the moment.

The kid, who's name escapes him, smiles, and maybe in some universe it could have been described as seductive. Maybe. In a far off distant universe where kids with white hair and crooked noses, but booming bank accounts, can actually pull of that kind of smile.

“Keep the change,” he purrs, and Stiles expects that to be that, but then the boy is grabbing Stiles practically by his hair and crowding into the booth to smash his lips onto Stiles'.

Stiles lets out a completely involuntary yelp, and tries to force his lips together by pure will alone when the boys tongue presses insistently against the seem of Stiles' mouth.

After the initial shock, Stiles shoves the kid away; who looks blissed out like a dog who's stomach has just been rubbed. He barely refrains from gagging. He doesn't, though, stop himself from telling the kid to fuck off.

Stiles waits for him to stagger off before unashamedly wiping his mouth on his sleeve and reaching for the wipes Danny had left. After he's wiped, drank, and applied chap-stick - which he is totally not going to be embarrassed about doing in front of a crowd of people - he looks up to face the next person in line.

He nearly falls out of his chair when he finds Derek Hale front and center in front of the booth. Stiles wonders why he hadn't noticed Derek in line before, but maybe that's beause Derek cut.

“Did you just cut in line at a charity event?” Stiles accuses.

Derek grunts and slips his wallet out of his back pocket, tossing a bill Stiles isn't paying attention to on the table before leaning forward to press an insistent kiss to Stiles' mouth.

Stiles' hands immediately go lax on the table, a soft, surprised gasp ghosts against Derek's mouth as he licks across Stiles' bottom lip.

One of his hands fists in Derek's plain white tee and the other grips the hairs at the nape of his neck as he all but yanks Derek closer. 

Derek doesn't seem to have a problem with this, gently cradling either side of Stiles' face and angling his head so he can deepen the kiss, _press in,_ and chase away the taste of Jackson's weirdo cousin along with the many other people from the afternoon.

When they finally pull apart it's because of a chorus of 'ah-em’s coming from behind them, and Stiles finally seems to remember 'oh yeah, we're in public and I'm actually running a booth that has children in the crowd.'

Derek presses his forehead against Stiles' as his mind tries to work out _what the fuck just happened._

Then Derek whispers, "We've caught the Elves scent,” before pulling away and walking off.

fin~


End file.
